


Repressed

by PlushRabbit



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Dry Humping, Gen, Overstimulation, Sexual Repression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:47:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29126730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlushRabbit/pseuds/PlushRabbit
Summary: Leon is repressed in this!!
Relationships: Dande | Leon/Reader
Kudos: 39





	Repressed

-Most people would think that Leon has had his fair shares of flings and hookups. He’s handsome, charming, and he holds status. It’s easy for most people to assume that he knows what to do in bed and has dirty talking down to a point where he can make you wet with just a few words and a slight brush of his lips on your neck.

-However, he was also a champion at such a young age. He was surrounded by adults, had sponsorships that he had to represent, a status to uphold. So he didn’t get enough time to explore and act as a teenager.

-As a result, he’s rather timid as a partner. Most things are his firsts. He’s had his fair share of kisses- enough to count on one hand- has brushed his hand against a chest and bum, frantically pulling his hand away and clutching it with the other while he apologies extensively.

-And then you come along. You’re everything to him. He falls in love fast and wants to experience things with you. But he’s also embarrassed. He assumes you know what to do, you’ve made enough suggestive advances for him to guess that you do. You’ve let your lips linger against his neck, let your hand cup the swell of his breast and brush your nails down to his hardening nipples that he almost stained himself from just that alone.

-And that’s the issue. He feels insecure. You can give him a look and kiss him and he can cream himself in just a few seconds and he wants to have so much more with you.

-But jerking off doesn’t work. He feels ashamed. Dirty. He trembles as his hand wraps around his cock, as he pumps himself and lets his mind wander off to you because booking at porn is just too much. It’s too much to listen to women and men moan, white, thick discharge to spill. It’s too intimate even if it isn’t.

-But thinking of you isn’t any better. He feels awful when he imagines you. How you would moan, how you’d feel wrapped around his cock. He’s heard you say his name countless times but the thought of hearing his name in such a breathy tone, sultry and whimpering with a flushed face is enough to make him spill.

-He always buys you something when he masturbates to the thought of you. It’s almost like he’s repenting for the filthy act that he just did the night before. He gets you whatever you want for the entire day and will happily place things in the cart if you even expressed the slightest interest in them.

-The day things grow heated between the two of you is the day he’s shaking like a leaf, sputtering out words and nearly crying himself. He doesn’t hate it. He wants it, he swears. He’s just so nervous that you won’t like how he looks without clothing or even his shaft.

-It’s too much and he’s grateful that you understand but he’s still so hard and touching himself in front of you is too humiliating right now. So when you offer the next best thing, to let you touch his cock and pressed your clothed cunny onto his bugle and move on him, he’s agreeing immediately and he’s a moaning mess under you while tears spill from his eyes and his nose crinkles.

-He whines and ruts his hips against yours, his bare cock against the soft cotton of your panties, pre-cum oozing out and staining you, a flushed face that feels too warm as he chokes out your name and spills, making a mess on you and your new covers.

-He’s large in your hand, and you give him melodic strokes, fingers soft and tight around him with your thumb circling at his slit. He gasps for breath, forehead on your shoulder and sweat beading down the side of his face. He swallows tightly and wants to mumble something sweet to you, wants to slip his hands under your skirt and circle and rub at your cunt that calls out to him. But he can’t bring himself to, too focused on the pleasure that you’re giving him and how you coo sweet words into his ear. Your voice is light and teasing, and he can feel a slight hump of you on him.

-

“Oh Leon,” you say softly, “you look so cute.” You tighten your hold on him and he whines, his hands curling, grabbing fistfuls of the comforter that he bought you a month ago. “Have you touched yourself before, dear? Wrapped a nice fist around your cock and tugged on it?” He bits his bottom lip, eyes squeezing shut and nods tightly. “What a good boy-” he lets out an embarrassing moan at the praise- “Did you think about me? Or did you watch something to help get you off?” He shakes his head and you tut against him, your hand slowing its movement and coming to a still, his high still so near and now coming to an abrupt stop. He whimpers and bucks his hips into your hand only to apologize with broken breaths when you remove your hand. “Come on sweetheart,” you whisper, breath hot against him, “you have to talk to me.”

He struggles to find words. All of the words that he wants to say build up and stop in his throat, choking him and denying him the sweet oxygen as he gasps and trips over, sputtering and his cock twitches and leaks when your nail runs over a sensitive vein. “Yes,” he chokes out. “To- To you,” he claries, sucking in a deep breath and letting his hands cup the underside of your breasts, feeling them swell with every breath that you take. “I-” there’s a tight coil in his stomach and he wants nothing more than to hump against you, to mewl and beg as he aligns his cock against your clothed slit and feel the sweet friction that your cotton gives to him- “I think about how good it would feel with your hands on me and- oh fuck,” he curses, pulling away from you and covering his hand over his mouth, eyes squeezed tight.

The pressure had begun to build, making him all too sensitive, crying and aching for release but the touch is too much. It leaves him trembling, too close for comfort, too far for comfort. His cock is hard, bobbing and a flushed color on it as it oozes a thick trail of translucent pre-ejaculate.

“And what Leon?” You coo, coming above him, your cotton teasing where his cock twitches and jerks into attention. “Do you wanna feel how soft I am? How I’m leaking just by touching you? Here you are with all the pleasure and I’m here in my soaked panties, a throbbing cunt all ready for you.” He burns hot and he can feel your legs pinch together. “Do you want to feel me?” You ask gently, brushing your nose under his jawline and pecking lightly under his chin. “Do you want to put your fat cock inside of me?”

He wants more than anything to feel you. To let his hands roam your body and make love to you but when you guide your hands upwards to the curve of your breast, bra pulled down to expose yourself, he jumps when his palm makes contact with your pebbled nipples. He shakes his head, a soft whimper sounding in the room. “Not yet,” he mutters and you pull away, eyes wide and sliding away from him.

“You okay?” You ask, brushing away strands of hair that coat his face.

He nods. “Not ready yet,” he whispers. “Sorry,” he mumbles. He fists his own cock when you kiss him and wash away his worries. “Can- Can I do something else?” You nod and cup his face in your hand, pressing a quick kiss to his nose. “I-” it’s getting easier to voice his wants but even the thought of asking makes him remember just how inexperienced he is- “want to dry hump you.” He waits for your answer, shrinking in on himself and when you give him a wide grin, quickly agreeing, he turns you on your back and hooks your legs around his torso.

He hides in the curve of your neck, breath ragged and moistening your skin as his hips buck and slide over, your soft cotton panties, sweet and providing enough friction to make him start losing control. His cock is raw, pulled tight and hard. He whines your name, coming out in broken syllables, choked and hoarse and he humps against you, leaking and weak, his lips pressing quick kisses and swiping them away with his tongue. You moan under him, hand raised to pinch at a pert nipple while the other slips between the bodies and he can feel the way your rub at your hidden bud, panting under him, brows furrowed and eyes shut tight, breathing out his name in soft gasps, bucking your hips to meet his. His name sounds so sweet on his tongue, light and fruity, whimpered and arching your back, moaning his name out and he spills. He cries, hot tears sliding down and staining both of your skins, whimpering and face burning with fire while he shakes and breathes out ragged, deep breaths. Thick, white creamy discharge stains you on the outside and he sighs, letting his body collapse on yours for a quick second until he rolls over and hides his face under his hands.

He feels peppered kisses on his hands and soft fabric cleaning at his messy, wet skin. He whines when you touch his still too sensitive prick, bucks his hips when you roll his testicles in your hand, drying them off, practically cries when he feels a kiss against his slit. He feels his hands against your chest, hears your soft lullaby sung to him while you comb through his hair with your hands he promises himself that he’ll get you something sweet tomorrow as he lets his eyes rest.


End file.
